Alanna The First Adventure Translated
by Gray Rain
Summary: It's light and fluffy with a dark twist. It's the first installment of SOTL in todays times, with the same plot lines and characters...how bad can it be? Read and find out.
1. Prologue

**Song of the Lioness "Translated"**

**Alanna; the First Adventure**

_Disclaimer_: as we all know, I own nothing of this story. This is a blanket disclaimer.

_A.N_: As the summary says, this is the Alanna series translated as well as I can do into today's times and set in Australia. That means it's A/J, A/G, and A/L, and I do try to keep my thoughts from coloring the story. Please don't ask me about pairings unless it is your goal in life to be ignored. Likewise to flames. Constructive criticism I like. Flames are boring.

For anyone who read the original version of this, thank you for your support and patience, and for everyone in general, please give me feedback, without it I can't improve.

**Prologue**

The music from the radio had faded long ago into a dim, background hum. Sitting in the backseat of her parent's car, Alanna was caught in a half-sleep, bright points of light coming through her eyelids like morning light through cheap curtains. Her parents were silent. Nothing seemed at all out of place, but she wouldn't remember that peacefulness for a long time.

Suddenly the radio was loud, each word coming out of the speakers like a whip, snapping across her mind so she could never forget them. But if the radio was loud, the sound of tires screeching was louder.

The car jerked, then bucked. Alanna's mother was screaming, but her father was still silent. The exploding glass seemed to cut away at Alanna's soul, her world, until all that was left was the thin, curling sound of screaming and somewhere far off a man cursing, yelling…but all the sound was caught in a bubble of silence, a pocket of peace.

Somehow, Alanna struggled from the wreck, to fall onto the glass-studded grass and then fall deeper into unconsciousness.


	2. The New Girl

**Chapter 1**

The principal gave her directions as the bell rang, and boys flooded into home group rooms for the first time this year. Alanna found the room easily enough, one hand on the timetable in her pocket, the other gripping a strap of her bag, weighing more than she thought it ought, full of text books and a jumble of paraphernalia the booklist had told her she couldn't do without.

She let go of her timetable to open the classroom door. She didn't bother to take a breath to steel herself. She had spent all morning doing that.

Regardless, the sight of a classroom full to the brim of men – boys, in her eyes – made her a little nervous. She hadn't bothered to ask if she was the only girl in the school, but by the way they all stared, maybe she should have. Tortall was apparently famous, as a boys' school and as a sports-oriented secondary college, but for whatever reason they decided to open their doors to the fairer sex this year – Alanna suspected a low enrollment average. Not many could afford the fees.

She should have been suspicious when Mr. Naxen, the principal, had told her there was no girls uniform as yet. Somehow she hadn't transferred information into reality.

Gritting her teeth, she steered towards the only table that wasn't occupied – these boys were too cool to sit on chairs – and let her bag fall next to her, looking again at her timetable.

Silence reigned, until someone behind her whispered. Whatever was said was doubtless at her expense, and was followed by laughter, but only by one boy.

She shifted in her seat, head coming up as a gangly youth decided her table seemed inviting, after all, sitting on it to look down at her.

"Well, look." The two unintelligent words were followed by an equally unintelligent smile. "You're new, hey?" Alanna kept her face blank, not bothering to reply. It seemed like a pretty stupid question to her. "Here, I'll tell you something." He lent forwards. "You'll go far here if you're…friendly."

Alanna's eyes narrowed. "Don't breathe on me. It smells like you've been getting – friendly – with pigs." She turned her eyes away from him, hands curled into fists under the cover of the scarred table. Her temper had always been bad, but now it was terrible if someone like this Neanderthal could upset her. Still, for the same reason she was faster to anger, she was slower to show it.

He grabbed her arm, leaning over her. Even if she'd been standing he would have been taller. "Watch it, bitch. You might want to reconsider, soon."

Alanna looked down at his grip on her arm, then back up at him. Twisting in his grip, she stood. "Why? Because you're the first guy to get angry when I don't open up for you? Don't touch me."

She knew what that flare of feeling in his eyes meant, saw the bunching of muscle under his loose uniform shirt, exactly the same as her own. Ready for his punch, Alanna took a sharp breath, prepared to feel anger rather than physical pain.

"Hey, Ralon."

Alanna didn't drop the boy's gaze, still waiting for him to swing. "Yeah?" Ralon asked, voice milder, somewhat whiny.

"Didn't I tell you last year to drown yourself?" the same person asked, coldly. "If you don't have the decency to do that, at least, why don't you get the hell away from us before we decide to help you?"

Alanna let her eyes flicker to her champion. He seemed somewhat familiar, but from where, she had no idea. He was handsome, sapphire eyes and hair colored black, unusual combination, yes, but…

She struggled to find what was so different about him, finally settling on his aura of arrogance – not that arrogance was so unusual in boys this age.

When he met her eyes, though, he didn't seem quite so over-bearing, smiling a little. Alanna, more wary than ever, nodded stiffly rather than ignore him, and settled again into the scarred seat. Where the Neanderthal had gone, she didn't know nor care.

Now the room wasn't silent, talk flying fast around Alanna. She ignored it all, but was coming to the end of her patience as the door of the room opened, and a somewhat hassled, worn old man walked in, with bloodshot eyes and a friendly smile. He scanned the crowd until he spotted Alanna, and his smile widened further as he waved her up to the front of the class. "Here, come on," he said, his eyes, still holding the spark of intelligence even in their sunken state, danced. "Class – Tortall's first ever female student, Alanna Trebond." He rested a hand on her back. "I'm Myles, and I'll have you for history, as well as homegroup." He looked around again at the class. "You'll need someone to show you the ropes. Gary?"

Gary was tall, somewhat round-shouldered, with muddy brown hair and eyes the same shade. Alanna liked his careless smile and sharp gaze, though, so she returned the smile, though hers was more reserved.

Myles patted her on the back. "Now that's done with, who's not here?"

When the bell signaled an end to the brief homegroup, Alanna grabbed her bag again, feeling the expected ache in her shoulder where a torn muscle was still healing. "Ready?" Gary asked, with the same friendly smile. "We've got all academic classes in the morning. After lunch you'll be expected to join in with whatever physical class you've chosen." His eyes went to her bandaged wrist, but she didn't explain and he didn't ask. Waiting at the end of the corridor was a group of four boys.

"Alanna, meet Jon." Gary nodded at her blue-eyed defender. "Alex," he went on, turning to a slim shadow of a boy, "and Raoul."

Alanna looked almost straight up at the last before she could meet his black eyes. "Hello," she said, politely, wondering why the homegroup teacher had chosen Gary. Couldn't he have passed her onto someone who wouldn't give her a crick in her neck every time she looked at them?

"Come on," Raoul said, taking a half-hearted swing at Gary. "It's English first, your favorite."

Alanna considered for a moment turning and walking away, but the thought of the Neanderthal's laughter made her follow them. Obviously the principal had thought she could handle year eleven, even though she was a year behind the others.

Alanna stayed close to Gary, as he suggested when she almost got lost in the crowd. The others hung back, letting him take charge of Alanna – and seating. She and Gary were flanked by his friends as the stream of boys settled into seats.

"So," Gary said, clicking his pen. "Where're you from?"

Alanna looked down at the offending pen with a tiny smile. Her dad used to do that, when he was thinking… "Queensland," she told him, eyes going back to her own books. "The Downs."

Gary nodded, smothering a yawn. "Why'd you move down here?" he asked, when he could be understood again.

Alanna, who had been looking around to see what book everyone else had out, gave up. No one seemed in a hurry to get ready, so why should she?

"A—Alanna?" Gary asked, catching her attention again.

"Yeah," she brought her mind back to the question. "I … change of scenery," she said, with a weak smile.

"Long way to come for a change of scenery," the smallest boy – Alex – noted.

Alanna didn't much like lying, but she did like her privacy. She was still deciding on an answer when the door opened. For a moment, she thought the newcomer was a student, but he looked older, more polished. Though he dressed casually, there was nothing negligent about him, from the fit of his shoes to the length of his beard.

Eyes of blue scanned the classroom, and immediately Alanna was caught in his gaze. He was incredibly good looking, his smile smooth, showing his teeth (also perfect) in his dark beard. She lent back in her chair, as if to put distance between herself and this man. Yes, he was handsome, but not attractive to her, rather he was repellant. He looked flawless, leaning on the teachers' desk, warm and inviting, as though he was the host of a special little party. But it was his eyes that said how he truly felt.

"Everyone, shut your books and open your eyes," he said, clearly, turning to the whiteboard, uncapping a marker to write in bold letters across it's surface,

"Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will,

And Will to boot, and Will in overplus.

More than enough am I that vex thee still,

To thy sweet will making addition thus."

"What the hell?" someone whispered, in front of Alanna.

The teacher then turned and smiled once more at the class. "You all know me," he began, before he met Alanna's eyes. "And those of you who don't are free to do so after class." Someone laughed, but most of the boys just snickered behind their hands. "Yes, yes, you'd all like that, I know." He sighed in a good-natured way, but Alanna's eyes were still narrowed. "Anyone guess who wrote that sonnet?"

From beside Alanna, Gary looked up, his pen still moving on the page as he copied down the sonnet. "Will," he said, with a smile.

"Surname," the teacher replied, dryly. "But Will shall do – William Shakespeare. This, gentlemen, is number one hundred and thirty five." He wrote the number on the board. "What, exactly does 'will' mean…" he looked around the class, eyes again hesitating on Alanna. "Ralon," he said, looking straight at her.

Gary lent over and whispered in her ear, "the fellow you turned down this morning hates Mr. Contè."

Alanna nodded, waiting to hear what the Neanderthal had to say for himself. "A will…as in, determination? Or, like, what you sign before you die." He scratched at a pimple. "Um."

Mr. Contè didn't have a chance to reply the door opened once more, and another teacher looked in. "A word?" he asked Mr. Contè.

Their teacher nodded, walking quickly outside and leaving the boys – and Alanna – to their own devices.

"Obviously," Alanna said, looking straight at the Neanderthal, "sleeping around doesn't improve your intelligence."

He turned in his seat to look at her, a snarl showing crooked teeth. "And being a lesbian doesn't improve you," he said, lamely.

Alanna laughed at this, anger in check. "Lesbian?" she asked. "Your answers just get lamer and lamer. Do you wanna try again? I don't mind either way – you're welcome to go back to daydreaming about your pigs."

Before he could reply, the door shut loudly behind Mr. Contè. "Miss…?" he walked over to Alanna, looking at her empty book.

"Trebond," Alanna told him, anger forgotten, replaced with deep unease. She knew he'd have her name on the role, but he either hadn't looked or was feigning ignorance for reasons of his own.

"Miss Trebond. What is your interpretation of the word will as used in this sonnet? Hopefully your answer is a little more insightful than your friends." He rapped on Ralon's desk with his knuckles as he passed.

Alanna looked again at the lines. "Will is the author's name," she answered, thinking of what little she knew of Shakespeare. "It's a pun. It was also used as a variant on the word 'wish'."

His eyes grew sharper. "And what is the sonnet about, Miss Trebond, as you see it?"

Alanna, all eyes on her, looked down at her blank page. "Sex," she answered, levelly. "Shakespeare is famous for his innuendos, and this sonnet shows it. He wishes to 'make addition' to her…sleep with her. He also praises his own – er – " she searched for a polite term. "Size," she finished, delicately, feeling her cheeks heating against her will.

The teacher grinned. "Ralon, were you listening?" he asked. "Next time I ask a question, if you answer with half the intelligence Miss Trebond did, I will swallow my tongue."

Alanna met Ralon's gaze, blush gone. She saw his anger, and knew he wouldn't forgive her soon. She'd made her first enemy.

Gary grinned at her, and the moment the teacher's back was turned, the big, curly haired Raoul threw a ball of rubbish at Ralon. "You've got good taste in enemies," Jon said, leaning across Gary. "And waste no time making them."

Alanna shrugged, uncertain once more. "Thanks…I guess."

Alanna had gained the groups respect. For once her temper had worked in her favor. Gary showed her around during recess and lunch, always having something to say about everyone. He made her laugh with his quick wit, and she gained respect for him in turn. When she made him laugh, by simply saying what she was thinking, it made her feel good about herself. To have someone as intelligent as Gary listening to her was a boost to her confidence.

She tried not to show it, but she needed all the aid in that department that she could get. The boys were willing to help all they could, even to the point of waiting for her to change to show her to her classroom once the academic classes were over.

Alanna, knowing they were waiting, changed clothing in record time, strapping her wrist even as she strode out to meet them.

"Timetable?" Gary asked her, when she appeared. They were all dressed casually, since there was no set uniform for the "sweat classes", as Gary called them. Alanna held her partially secured wrist to her ribs, digging into first one pocket, then the other before finding the neatly typed document.

"Ready to die?" Raoul asked her, with a friendly grin.

Alanna expertly checked her bandage, counting to ten before she replied. "I'll stick with life, I think," she said, finally. Turning to Gary, she said, "how's it goin'?"

Jon and Alex looked up from her timetable, read over Gary's shoulders. "You're doing fencing?" Jon asked, before Alex could. "Do you know anything of it?"

"Why?" Alanna asked, instantly defensive.

Alex replied in his quiet voice. "We're on the fencing team."

Gary passed the timetable back to Alanna. "You fell in with the right group," Gary said. "Come on."

Alanna followed him through the double doors and into a kind of hallway. The building was a huge, hall-like construction, with blue curtains sectioning off classroom sized chunks, steel bars ensuring the curtains didn't swing around too much.

"This is me," Raoul said, nodding towards a group of boys in one area. Alex went with him on his cat-like feet, leaving Alanna with Gary and Jon.

"What do I have again?" Alanna asked, looking around with interest.

Gary pointed in front of the and slightly to the left. "Self defense," he replied. "It's supposed to be more-or-less run by the Rogue."

Alanna peered in the direction he indicated. "The what?" she asked, blankly, wondering if Gary had a secret fetish for X-men comics.

"School drug dealer," Jon replied, before Gary could. "Didn't they have one where you came from?"

Alanna frowned. "Of course. But we didn't give him a cute nickname."

"Enjoy," Gary said, blithely. "And try not to get into another argument, alright?"

Alanna, re-tying the drawstring on her tracksuit pants, looked up at him. "Why?" she asked, not taking offense, but rather waiting for the punch-line.

"'Cos," he said, with a grin. "We wanna be there, right, Jon?"

Jon looked back at Alanna. "Yeah," he said, frowning. "What'd I miss?"

They moved on, and Alanna gave in to curiosity, turning to follow the line of Jon's gaze moments before.

The boy in Jon's line of sight was tall, well-muscled and even handsome if you liked his kind. Arms were folded, and he lent back carelessly onto the curtain-wall, one foot on the bar at the bottom to maintain balance. On his left, someone was standing, their back to Alanna, looking upwards. They were chatting. Or, they were, until the guy Jon had been staring at caught Alanna's gaze.

He pushed himself away from the curtain, gaze flicking up and down Alanna. She felt her own gaze drop – could he possibly see the flaws she had only recently realized? Or was it just the simple feeling of in-too-deep that he identified on her face?

"Well, I didn't ever expect to see you again."

Alanna looked up sharply, hands finding their ways to her hips with no say-so from her. "I know you?" she asked, once more defensive, eyes assessing.

He shook his head. "No. I saw you, once." Alanna relaxed fractionally, and waited for him to go on. If only Gary had introduced her to someone…

"Jogging," he confirmed, frowning a little. "Looked a bit of a mess, then – though you don't now."

Alanna grasped her still-aching wrist, the only unhealed injury from the crash. "You're a local?" she asked. She herself only lived half an hour's walk away.

"Born and bred," he agreed, carefully. Every word he spoke was careful – though his voice was rough, almost uneducated, he didn't sound like an idiot. "Do you have a name, or should I just call you Amethyst, for your eyes?"

Alanna considered a sharp reply, but held her tongue. "Al." She looked away. Her brother had called her that, before. It was like her life could be sectioned off in two neat categories now. Before the crash, and after the crash. "Alanna."

"Well, Alanna." He looked her up and down. "You're in a pretty hands-on class for one so…"

When he trailed off, she fought a grin, folding her arms under her breasts and looking up, challenging. "I believe the word you're looking for is 'young'," she decided. "And I'm only a year younger than you. Even if I'm not quite as…" she trailed off, imitating him. "Manly," she finished, with a hard smile.

He laughed, smile wide and appreciative. "Feminist, hey?" She wondered the truth of the statement even as she agreed with a single word. "Good thing you're in self-defense, then, isn't it?" he replied, still smiling. "Have you had any previous training?"

Alanna, not sure what she should say, agreed carefully, with, "a little." She wasn't going to boast she'd been the top fighter in her style. Not just because of modesty, either – she wasn't sure if she could back up her mouth. She hadn't done so much as a single kata1 since the crash.

His brows raised, gaze intensifying further. "'A little'?" he echoed. "How many styles does that mean?"

Alanna felt a little sheepish and a lot naked. He could read her so easily… "only the one. Aikido."

His smile had faded gradually, but now it returned, with slow surety that made her heart pick up a little. "I see you've fallen in with the Prince." At Alanna's confused look, he explained. "Jonathan – Jon. Not many call him 'prince' to his face, but it's what he's best known as."

"I won't ask why, probably some arcane male naming ritual involving a lot of bragging and back-slapping."

George looked as innocent as he could. "You forgot the beer. The bragging isn't believable without the beer."

Before Alanna could stop laughing and reply, a short man of Asian decent walked in, clipboard in one hand, whistle in another. Instantly Alanna recognized him – or thought she did. He introduced himself as 'Bill' with no accent, whereas she expected to hear him speak the name Joe.

He gave no sign of recognizing her, though, not even calling out her name on the roll. When he was done he beckoned to her, before turning back to the rest of the class.

"It's my first year here, so I don't know you, but I know what you should be able to do. Run through your katas, in order – and in line!"

Alanna couldn't help the ghost of a smile. Bill was the image of her old instructor.

He turned to her, now. "All the boys have been graded through the years," he explained. "Do you know anything of the martial arts?" Alanna nodded, knowing everyone was both watching and listening. "Then you will know not every student is at the same level. I will assess you, now, and give you a current level."

"How?" Alanna asked, curious despite the feeling of inadequacy.

Before he could reply, the same person who had approached Alanna before came up. "Mr…Bill." He smiled. "George Cooper, sir. Do you want my help?"

Bill looked down the roll, frowning a little. "You're the highest ranked?"

"That'd be me," George agreed, easily. "If you want help assessing Alanna, I can challenge or help her, depending."

Bill nodded, turning his attention to Alanna. "What style of martial arts?"

"Aikido," she said, for the second time that hour.

He grinned. "Really? My first, too. Well…we'll do a three-point2 round. Do you mind if the students referee?"

Alanna looked over her shoulder at the class. "No," she lied, doubting they'd score fairly.

Bill nodded at her wrist. "Is it serious? What happened?" Alanna shook her head, her only reply. "Is it an old injury?" he pushed. "I need to know."

Alanna flexed the hand in question, feeling a twinge of pain. "My…I was in a car crash," she answered, finally. "I'm fine."

He grasped her hand, bending the wrist back and forth. "Good," he said, releasing her.

George slung a friendly arm around her shoulders as Bill spoke to those gathered. "Don't worry about the boys. They're more likely to score in your favor than mine, but the teacher has the final say."

She nodded, ducking out of his reach to kick off her shoes and peel off socks. Her hair she stuffed down the back of her singlet3 and out of the way. Even plaited it could become annoying sometimes.

A square for the fight was marked off with two sets of shoes, one at each corner. Around the outside, a meter back from the makeshift arena, the class had gathered. Alanna ignored them as best she could. Her knees wanted to tremble, but she had no reason to be this afraid.

Before she could analyze her reactions further Bill introduced them to one another as was proper, bowing to the referee and then to their opponents. "You attack first," Bill ordered Alanna, before calling the fight begun.

George stood, ready, looking casual and relaxed. Alanna's temper sparked – she had once been respected and feared at her school. _No one_ would have dared face her down like this.

She threw out a kick to his knees, and he checked it, as she had expected and anticipated. Without lowering the foot, she flicked it up, hitting his ear gently before jumping back, shifting her weight, eyes steady and evaluating.

"Point!" several people called, and George dropped his hands, his eyes laughing.

"Aikido, or Taekwundo?" he asked, even as they met back in the center for the next round.

Alanna ignored him as she was given the point. "Who's red?" one boy in the crowd asked.

"Look at the hair," was the reply, followed by laughter.

This time George didn't wait for her, pushing her back, moving unpredictably. She was too busy just defending to think of attacking. "Well?" he asked, as she ducked to the side and under a punch. "What styles have you _really_ learned?"

"Bits and pieces," Alanna replied. She considered dropping in a sweep – he was perfectly positioned for it, but sweeping in non-contact fights was illegal, so she stayed where she was, waiting for an opportunity to use his strength against him as she had been taught.

It was, she thought, grimly, the best way to fight.

* * *

1 Known in Tortall as patterns, and by the Yamani and Amazons as battle-dances, my style of martial arts calls it _kata._

2 Three-point sparring is non-contact, with a red and a white side. Clean techniques that go unblocked by the opposition to anywhere on the body above the knees is counted as a point if two of the four referees see the strike.

3 For those who don't know this multi-purpose item of clothing by its Aussie name, a singlet is a sleeveless shirt, or a spaghetti strap…er…thingo. Sometimes halter necks even come under this loose category.

* * *

**AN: **okay so there's the first chapter up. I haven't looked at this story in about two years. I deleted the original because there are parts in there that make me wince every time I read them. There's no chance of me disappearing before the entire first book is up, I have the rest of the story sitting on my harddrive and a copy that comes with me to uni to be worked on between classes, so there's no fear of that. I'll post in a day or two or when I get, say, five reviews. Whichever comes first.

Hope everyone has an awesome day .

Gray Rain


	3. The Small Prick

**Chapter 2**

Alanna would have jogged home, except it was way too hot. Sweat pickled at her temples, her chest, the band of her pants and, the worst of all, her back under her schoolbag. Only noticing her uncle's absence because she was able to concentrate on her schoolwork, of which she had very little, Alanna waited until six-thirty to change into running clothes and do a few light stretches before she set off along the track she thought of as her own.

It only took about ninety seconds of jogging for her to realize it wasn't all hers, after all. A familiar face from school was just leaving one of the driveways on her side of the road, his legs stretching into a ground eating jog.

He didn't notice her until her feet found a chunk of gravel, announcing her presence loudly. She wondered if he'd turn. Wondered if she should call out. Wondered if she had the energy to be friendly.

He glanced over his shoulder, then stopped when he saw her. Not sharply enough to hurt his knees, taking a few loping strides and slowing gently. His smile was the same, gentle and slow. "Afternoon," he said, as she reached him.

Alanna returned the smile, deciding it was the most diplomatic thing to do. Besides, so far Jon hadn't appeared to be an asshole. There was no reason to be rude. Yet. "Hey," she said. "How's it going?"

"Good. Didn't know you lived close."

"Mm. There you go, you learned something today after all." She watched the way he kept pace beside her out of the corner of her eye. He could have outrun her. If nothing else, his legs were longer. But he wasn't. He was being _social._

"Run this track often?"

Alanna didn't say anything, though it wasn't because she was out of breath. She nodded, slowed a little and veered away from the road and into the bush, not really expecting him to follow. Of course he did, though.

The track was only barely wide enough for two abreast. Once they jostled each other, exchanged a glance, a little awkwardly. Alanna, refusing to feel weird, took the lead so it wouldn't happen again.

Once they'd cleared the bush and returned to the road, Alanna slowed her pace, as was her habit, to a brisk walk, wiping sweat off her forehead with a swipe of her wrist. Jon followed suit, slowing beside her. "How was self-defense?" he asked, a little short of breath and trying to hide it.

"Educational."

"Heard you met the Rogue."

Alanna tried to remember. "Did I?"

"Yes—George."

His not-quite-handsome face jumped into her mind, with those laughing hazel eyes and serious mouth. "He's the school's tough kid?" she asked, disbelieving.

"Better believe it," Jon told her, seriously. He'd seemed more like a puppy to her. Soft and laughable and friendly. Just showed it took all types. "You're not a chatterer, like most girls."

"Haven't noticed."

He grinned at this. "You don't just run once a day, do you?"

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, pushing a few curls that had broken free of her plait from her face. "No. Why?"

"You know the track too well, and you're too fit, to have been running it once a day for a few weeks. What time of morning?"

"When I get up. Dawn-ish," she added, feeling a bit defensive.

"I might have to get up and keep you company." When she cocked a brow, he added, "I slacked off over the holidays. Have to make up for it now."

She shrugged. "They're your knees." Alanna stopped in her uncle's driveway, her heart sinking as she saw his car was there. The last thing she wanted was another bruise or two from a friendly little family chat with him. "See you tomorrow," she said, trying to disguise her despondence with a bit of a smile and a half-wave before she let her aching feet guide her into the house.

Though she considered it, Alanna didn't sleep in the next morning. Apart from anything else, she refused to let Jon think that she'd been worried about bumping into him. And she definitely wasn't. That had nothing to do with the reason she wanted to be anywhere but on that damn running track at 6:09 in the morning.

Thoughts turned inwards, Alanna didn't even break her stride when he fell in beside her, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. He didn't say anything that she had to respond to, which suited Alanna just fine. They ran, feet hitting the ground ever so slightly off beat, making an interesting rhythm that sounded lonely to Alanna.

By the time they hit the road again, she was feeling more at peace with the world, having burned off the poison nightmares left in her system. She didn't say anything to Jon when she left, but offered him a big, unreserved grin before she turned away that was worth more than a bit of lip service.

She walked to school, and timed it perfectly so she was arriving at her locker just as the bell rang to go to homegroup. It meant she didn't have to socialize with anyone while waiting, and that was a definite plus, since she didn't really have any friends.

The dial on the combination lock spun as her fingers maneuvered it slowly and carefully, reciting the numbers she needed in her head so she didn't forget. When it popped open she eased her bag off her shoulders and shoved it in, taking out the books she'd need for her morning class, cross-referencing her timetable to be certain she wasn't going to screw up and make an idiot of herself.

The sound of teenage boys being their usual obnoxious selves filled the locker hall with noise and life. Alanna heard undercurrents in the usual conversations, mentions of 'the chick'. She was a little embarrassed, but mainly amused by it. When she shut her locker, she found, lounging behind it, George, the alleged Rogue.

"Morning," she said, warily.

"Certainly is. How was your first day?" and he offered his hands to carry her books for her.

Alanna didn't hand them over, rather holding them a little closer to her chest. "Boring," she told him, honestly. "I know what they're teaching."

"Bright lass," he said, with a friendly smile. "But does everything have to be a challenge?"

"Well, no." She considered it for a few seconds as boys seethed around her. "But I want to learn. I don't want to just be average."

He grinned again, clapped her on the back. "I'm sure you'll manage it, lass. I'll see you in class, then."

She nodded, wondering why George didn't smell like stale cigarette smoke like most of the junkies she knew did. As soon as she entered the homegroup room she was hailed by Gary, and he started asking questions about the climate where se used to live.

"Hey," Jon said, as he came in, dropping his books onto the table beside Gary with a clatter. "You'll overwhelm her." This earned him a sharp glare from Alanna that made Raoul give a bark of laugher. Jon, unaffected, gave her a teasing grin and asked, "enjoy your run this morning."

"Yes, thank you," she replied, stiffly. "It was refreshing. What about you?"

"Absolutely exhausted," he said brightly, not at all worried by Raoul's sniggers and Alex's laughing eyes.

Gary, flicking through his papers, said, "it's your own fault for being so lazy. How do you expect to get your team into the fencing championships if you're unfit?"

"Bribery?" Raoul suggested, jokingly.

"Blackmail," Alex corrected, with a wink.

"There's a fencing team here?" Alanna asked, perking up.

"Yeah," Alex said, stretching. Through a yawn, he added, "two A grade, two B grade. The B's sub for the A's but they have separate tournaments." Alanna, somehow, understood what he'd said. "Tournaments are Northern Territory this year," he added, tiredly. "Jon's our captain. Has been since year ten."

Jon, scratching at his beard a little, said to Alex, "we're down one. Tryouts won't be fun."

The class settled a little as Myles arrived and took control of the class. Just before the bell rang to make them go their separate ways, Alanna was instructed to go up and collect something from the head office. It wasn't anything more exciting than a little bit of paperwork, and Alanna, still thinking about fencing, didn't really look at it. She was intent on shouldering her way through the thickening crowd to get to Jon and Alex and pump them for more information when something hard slammed into her and forced her back into a sheltered alcove.

She tried to shove Ralon off her—though she didn't know it was him—but had no leverage to use or room to maneuver. She felt movement, struggled, bit her lip rather than yell like a girl, and then felt her heart sink as fabric ripped.

He let her up, grinning, still wielding the scissors. "Let's see if you're any friendlier at the end of the day without a bra, bitch."

Hearing a group of boys coming up the walkway the alcove branched off, Alanna didn't reply or retaliate, yanking off her torn bra rather than have it dangle out the bottom of her shorn shirt. Face red, jaw set, she strode out of the hiding place and straight past her new friends just in time to see Jon send a well-timed elbow into Ralon's stomach. She shook her head when they waved her over, hoping like hell they wouldn't glance back and see the cut in the back of her shirt that Ralon had made getting to her bra.

When she didn't show at school for the rest of the day, Jon, who had noticed a gloating Ralon emerge a few seconds before red-faced Alanna, walked down to her place, hesitating only for a second before knocking on the front door.

After a few minutes of knocking and no response, he decided he'd walk the track she ran in reverse, just in case she'd gone for a jog or something. If nothing else the bush gully that made up most of it would be cooler than it was up the top of the hill.

He actually almost walked straight past her. If her hair hadn't been such a loud shade of red, he would have. She was lying on her back down by the creek, bare feet dangling in the running water, mp3 player strapped to her arm, eyes on the leaves above that cast mottled shadows on her still form.

It was a few meters from the track to where she'd found somewhere flat enough to sit. Jon slipped a little on the leaflitter but corrected his footing, moving down to sit beside her, figuring it was nice and cool.

When she turned surprised eyes on him he instantly noticed the swelling around her right eye and the dried tear tracks on her face. He pressed stop on the mp3 player and gave a gentle tug to remove the headphones.

She dropped his gaze first, fixing amethyst eyes firmly on her feet. "Who hit you?" he asked, calmly.

"No one," Alanna responded, without looking up to meet his eyes. She picked up a rock with her toes, watched the running water wash it clean.

"Was it Ralon?"

Her eyes flickered up to him in surprise, but she didn't move her face, not wanting to give him the chance to study it again. "No—it wasn't Ralon."

"So it _was _someone, then." He watched her, felt the stillness within her and the stubbornness that kept her spine straight as a ruler. "You know, we'll have to hurt them. No one around here is allowed to make a lady cry."

She kicked the rock away, angrily. "What makes you think I was crying because I was hit?"

Jon blinked. He thought it was a pretty logical assumption. Physical pain equals female tears, right? But he was smart enough to not say so. "Well…why were you crying then?" he asked, wondering if he'd just been asking the wrong question before, wondering if that was why she hadn't responded.

Alanna, kicking herself, just said, "personal stuff' in a tone that brooked no further questions.

"What kind of personal stuff?"

Alanna closed her eyes. _Thom. _ "This isn't twenty questions," she answered, roughly. "Just leave me alone."

With a sigh, Jon settled back. "You know even if you don't give me answers now I'll just drag them out of you later."

She slanted him a disbelieving glance. Chivalry just _oozed_ out of him. "As if you'd ever hurt a lady."

Quick as a whip, he responded, "you're no lady," with a good-natured grin that she didn't return.

"No, I'm not. I don't want to be treated differently. This morning—you didn't have to go after Ralon like you did."

"He hit you!"

"He didn't hit me. He cut my fucking bra. Just—just stay the hell out of it." She stood, dragged on her slides and strode off before he could make a reply.

**AN:** firstly, WOOT!! You're still here, Kayden! I wasn't sure if you would be. You're the first of the old group to get in touch with me. How many years has it been exactly? Way too many...I forgot how much fun it was doing something for kicks rather than for the greater good. Reviews give you such a zing, don't they??

Secondly, I've had a few people umming and ahhing about weather Alanna should really be disguised as a boy. While I'm sure lots of people have read this, gone pfft whatever, and forgotten it because of that one fact, I'd like to point out there isn't a way in hell we could do it in today's society, and if I'd tried to, you all would've been telling me it was unrealistic. I suppose if you've gotten this far you're a bit openminded about it. Just try to trust me not to screw you over.

Lastly, this is an instruction to get comfy, grab a hot chocolate, and write me a 2000 word review. .

Take care,

Gray Rain


	4. The Prince and The Rogue

**Chapter 3**

Alanna turned up at school the next day, to Jon's surprise. When someone asked her about her eye, she'd snap at them. She had obviously slept poorly. She pursed her classes doggedly, and when she got to class and found she had self defense, she didn't say a thing about the irony.

When she turned up, the small class went quiet, then whispers began flying. George, who had been talking to a few boys, looked up and met her eyes. A frown snapped into place. He dismissed the other guys and walked straight over to her. "Who did this?" he asked.

"No one." She knocked away the had he tried to put on her shoulder.

"Look here, girl, I'm not goin' to go running off on my stallion to save the day. I just wanted to know who had the nerve—"

Alanna's healthy eye narrowed at him. "Stick it." She turned, walked to the back wall, and swung her leg up against the bricks, leaning over so she felt her hamstrings stretching.

"Now that's not a nice way to turn down the offer of a tutor." George lent against the wall.

"I'm not in a very nice mood," she told him shortly.

"I can tell." He sounded amused. "How about I pick you up after school—"

"I don't date," her voice sharper, but pitched lower.

He threw his head back and laughed. Alanna switched legs, trying not to look nervous. He was wiping the tears from his eyes when he said, "daddy's little girl, hey?"

Alanna froze, her nose flaring. Slowly she turned her head towards George. "My own woman." Her eyes were violet ice.

George held up his hands in surrender. "Well if it makes you feel better I was going to offer to give you some practical street fighting lessons." He grinned again. "Though a date would be—"

Alanna, embarrassed, tried and failed to stop herself from turning beet red. "Sorry." She muttered.

"No worries." He shrugged easily. "You're a good kid. I like your style." Another guy wandered over as Alanna pushed off from the wall. Next, she pressed her knee against it, her back leg behind her, and wiggled the foot with the knee against the wall as far from the bricks as she could, stretching her calves.

"Alanna, meet Marek, visa versa." Alanna smiled politely at Marek. He grinned at her.

"Nice eye." He said. "What'd you do?"

"Its not worth your life to ask." George told him. "So, will you take me up on my offer, lass?"

She looked at him suspiciously. After what had happened, she most likely would need some practical stuff…plus, she'd love to get Ralon back. It was that thought that swayed her decision in his favor. "All right." She told him, though she hated it. Asking for help had never been a strong point. "Thanks."

He shrugged, rummaged around in his pocket. Marek grinned, passed him a pen and paper. Alanna gave him a skeptical look. "Prepared, are we?" She asked him.

"Always." Marek turned his grin on her, until he caught George's eye. He then backed off, recognizing the Rogue had first shot at her.

"Here, I'll need your address." Alanna took the pen and scribbled her name and after thinking for a moment, her new address and phone number.

"So what time?" She asked him, as he glanced at it. The teacher…Bill, had just walked in the door.

"Around seven-ish?" He asked. Alanna thought for a moment. Well, it wasn't a date, she didn't need to get dressed or wear makeup…if she went running early she'd cram it, easily. She's just have to tough the heat of the day.

"Sound good," she said with a smile.

He shrugged. "Anyone who will fight their own battles deserves all the help the can get." Alanna looked at him oddly, making George add, "the words out on how you told the Prince to stay the fuck away from your business."

"I asked him to 'stay out of it'." Alanna corrected. "I'm no soft lady—"

"Sh." George put a hand over her mouth and looked at Bill, who was giving his star student a vaguely disapproving glance. She sent George a withering glare, and turned her mind to the class.

Alanna had caught Jon as he was walking towards her house that afternoon. She had set out early, not only to avoid him but also to get back in time to see George. He was dressed for jogging, had fallen into step beside her.

Now, she neared her driveway, Jon keeping pace beside her, breathing a little faster than she was but otherwise doing fine.

The old panel van driving towards them pulled into Alanna's driveway. She frowned, but stopped jogging. Her grandaddy of a headache was back with a vengeance. She almost groaned when she saw George step out of it. Typical. A panel van. It probably had a sticker on the back that said something about when it was rocking not to knock or whatever it was. And she really, really didn't feel like learning about anything but the inside of her eyelids right now…

"Why's he here?" Jon asked, looking at Alanna with surprise.

"He offered to help out with my self defense stuff." She felt a little awkward, spending time with both boys, though she wasn't dating either of them.

"See ya tomorrow, then?" Jon asked, looking oddly intense, though his words were light.

"Sure." She nodded, and gave him a smile, walking over to George as Jon kept going.

"Walks with the Prince, huh?" George asked her, smiling easily.

Alanna shrugged, tucking a curl that had come loose behind her ear. "We run together. He lives up the road and kind of…follows me." She pulled a face. "Do you want to come in quickly? I have to grab some stuff."

He nodded, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and followed her inside, looking around but not commenting. Alanna headed straight for her room, George following slower.

Taking a bottle of panadol, Alanna shook two into her hand. "Whats going on?" George frowned when she swallowed them without water. "You alright?"

She nodded, grabbing a brush and tugging her hair free of her bun, quickly brushing it then securing it into a ponytail. "Bit of a headache," she replied with forced lightness. It was the understatement of the century.

She glanced at what she was wearing in the mirror. Her eyes then flickered to George, who had his arms crossed and was leaning against her doorway.

Grabbing the edges of her loose shirt, she pulled it over her head and threw it onto her bed. She didn't look at George to gauge his reaction. She was wearing a singlet underneath, damp with sweat.

Walking into the bathroom connected to her room, she washed her face and wiped the sweat off, not washing because she was only going to get sweaty all over again.

Padding back into her room, she looked again at the still figure of George. He was looking over her walls. Alanna glanced at them. One wall had three black fans with a silver dragon, tiger, and snake hand painted onto them. Her mother had painted them for her. She looked away quickly. Above her bed hung an old battered sword with a silver crystal on the hilt. Her eyes traveled to her wardrobe, and she quickly grabbed a light weight zip up jumper, but didn't put it on. "Penny for your thoughts?" She asked George.

He smiled at her, returning his gaze to her face. "I was wondering what sort of woman has a sword hanging above her bed."

Alanna smiled. He turned to walk out of the house, and she followed. "My kind of woman," Alanna told him with a grin, and she opened the passenger side door of the van, sliding in.

She shuddered, trying to hide it. "Cold?" He asked, starting the van and driving towards his home.

"No." Alanna sent him a reassuring smile. "Just had a cold chill."

He nodded, his big hands competent on the wheel. "So you and Jon are…close?" He asked carefully, not taking his eyes from the road.

"Not as close as I'm sure it seemed," she said, suddenly cool. "We run together, talk and hang out at school, but that's it." She settled back, waiting for the inevitable question…

"I know its personal, but the rumors are…" He looked at her apologetically. "You bat for the other team."

She wanted to laugh. "Hardly!" She said. "Just because I don't fall over myself to climb into the nearest bed doesn't make me a dyke."

He shrugged, and turned into the parking lot of a pub, driving around the back to the employee's carpark. "Just asking." He killed the engine and got out, Alanna mirroring him, unsure now she was standing in front of a hotel that didn't look like it was entirely safe.

None the less she followed him into the building, looking around with keen-eyed interest. It wasn't far from her place, not really. About four k's, she could run that easily. There was a small supermarket next door, a handful of shops. She replied to his earlier comment, with, "if I'd taken offense, I'd've told you."

They didn't go into the pub, but rather up a set of stairs and then into an apartment above it. George grinned when he saw her relax, said, "even if it was a date, I wouldn't take you to the Dove, lass," with a wink.

Marek and another teenager were sitting at a table, a beer in one hand and cards in the other. "Hey, Rogue, you're back fast." Marek said without glancing up. "Where'd you go?"

"Pick up Alanna." George said. Was there a hint of satisfaction beneath his amused tone? Marek and the other glanced up quickly, saw Alanna, and grinned. "Nice sunrise." The other boy said. "Where'd you get it?"

"Oh, I just woke up one morning, and it was there." Alanna told him, one eyebrow raised.

George grinned back at her. "You two stay outta trouble," he said, turning down a short hallway that led to his room. Alanna followed, unsure.

When he opened the door, she looked around. There was nothing in there but a punching bag, floor to ceiling, a stereo that looked serious, and heavy gym mats. He shut the door and kicked off his shoes. "We'll start your first lesson now, then."

**AN**: it was really cool to see I had a lot of original readers coming back! Don't have much time to reply to the awesome reviews (I noticed there's some new "reply" feature but I'm not sure how to use it so I decided to leave it alone and go oldschool) but if you have questions, shoot. I'll take extra time to respond next time

Have a good one guys, and thanks to old and new readers, you guys give me such a buzz!

Elisse


	5. Lessons

**Chapter Four**

Alanna groaned, looking down at the cruel math's assignment that sat before her. "Its not that bad." Alex told her, smiling, over top of the teacher's instructions as he walked around the room, handing out more of the death sentences.

"Are you joking?" Alanna asked. "Not only this, I also have an English essay on Shakespeare's Taming Of The Shrew, a history assignment on some jumped up Viking, _and_ Science questions. I'll be up all night for days on this alone!" She waved the paper in the air as the bell went and boys filed out of the class rooms.

"Why don't you study with us?" Jon asked her. "We meet at my place after school." She looked at him, studied his face for ulterior motives. Finding none, she accepted gladly.

Alanna walked into the fencing class with something akin to excitement, although this emotion was more tired. Jon and Alex flanking her, she looked around, secure in the knowledge she wouldn't be sitting alone in the corner without friends to talk to. The room was the same as her self-defense room, except for the barrel of swords in one corner and the piles of protective padding.

She pulled on her own fencing gloves, lightweight flexible cloth that breathed, so her hands didn't get sweaty. She'd come prepared with them, knowing how disgusting borrowing pads and gloves could get from playing for the cricket team back in Queensland.

Jon threw her a sword without thinking, and she caught it. He looked both frightened and surprised at the same time. She grinned at him. He'd been afraid he was going to skewer her.

The fencing teacher walked in, Mr Gareth. The family resemblance between he and Gary was instantly obvious, even had Gary not already told Alanna that his dad would be her teacher.

He nodded to Alanna, and walked over to the pile of padding. He handed it out to all the boys, ticking off names on the role as he went. The last, and smallest set, went to Alanna. She pulled it on easily, finding it was too small at the chest and too large at the shoulders.

"They're made for guys." Alex told her, grinning, while she winced and wiggled in discomfort.

Alanna looked down. "I never would have guessed."

"C'mon lads, lets get going!" Gareth called, and with a collective sigh, the students all walked over to begin their first lesson.

Alanna walked to home, every muscle aching as though she'd been pounded. She smiled wryly. She had been, in a sense. The swords were blunt, but hurt when they hit you. She had been paired with Ralon, _lucky me, _and he had broken through her guard many times.

Arriving home, she found that the fridge and pantry had been restocked with the items she had requested. Smiling at the small pleasure, she grabbed a banana and headed for the bathroom for a quick shower before she went to Jon's to study.

Choosing to wear her usual loose, low sitting tracksuit pants, this time black, and a short comfortable singlet that sat a little above her navel, Alanna walked, her bag loaded with homework, to where she could hear Alex's laughter and Gary's voice. Knocking on the door, she heard a chair scrape on the floor, and footsteps. "Hello." Jon let her in. "Didn't think you'd come."

Before Alanna could demand an explanation of her supposed cowardice, Alex cut in with, "how could she refuse?" his eyes dancing. Jon led her into the large, spacious room where papers were organized on a table, chairs around it.

"We were just taking a break," Gary told her, lifting some books off a seat.

"Sounds wonderful." Alanna sat, and sighed, shutting her eyes.

"You alright?" Raoul asked, his deep voice careful, not wanting to stir up her temper. She was already getting a reputation for it.

Alanna opened one eye. "She was paired with Ralon in fencing," Alex said menacingly, before she could speak again.

"Bastard kept taking cheap shots," Jon added.

Raoul cracked his knuckles, black eyes dancing with glee. "Any excuse'll do," he said, and Gary laughed.

Alanna sat straight in the chair. "No way." she said flatly, frowning. "I'm fine, and you will not use me as an excuse to pound the Neanderthal."

"Neanderthal huh?" Gary sat back, stroking his imaginary beard. "I like it."

"You would." Jon and Alanna muttered at once, before grinning at each other.

"Whoa, if you two start finishing each other's sentences your in _so_ much trouble." Raoul joked. Alanna rolled her eyes, trying desperately not to blush.

Jon laughed, and sat next to Alanna. "Get Alex to help you with that crapful math problem," he told her. "Alex is a mathematical wizard."

"He has a logical mind." Gary corrected Jon.

"Most of the time," added Raoul.

Alanna laughed at the banter. She had missed being around people her own age, and she was only just noticing it. "You know what's really hell?" Jon said. "This history thing old Myles gave us."

"Oh, its easy." Alanna told him. She'd already worked the questions out in her mind.

Jon looked at her as though she were mad. "What…?" He looked down at the paper. "Well, are you going to offer to help me?"

Alanna shrugged. "If I have to. I don't _usually_ let friends hand in blank pieces of paper."

"I'll help you with your fencing?" Jon offered.

Alanna hadn't seen Jon fence…she'd been too busy fending off Ralon. But she needed all the help she could get. "Done," she agreed, without hesitation. Dragging a book out of her bag, she pointed at the first question. "Now, Eric the red was one of the best known Vikings…"

Between George's street fighting lessons, Jon's fencing lessons, her homework and the habitual study sessions, as well as school and jogging, Alanna was soon too busy to remember about her feud with Ralon. She'd known that Raoul had beaten him up after school one day, as he had been absent for a week, but the only part that Alanna played in that was to scold Raoul later until he was thoroughly sorry.

Walking into the library, she steered to the back, where shelves held information about various poets. Rumors about her involvement with miscellaneous students…and sadly, teachers…abounded. Not only was she supposed to be sleeping with Gareth, she was also a lesbian. She was so busy trying to work that out as she scanned the shelves, she didn't hear Ralon approach until it was too late.

"Bitch," he spat, mismatched teeth yellowing. "You think you're so good, don't you?"

He had cornered her, her back against a bookshelf. She figured she was already in trouble, and wasn't going to miss out on taking a few stabs back at him. "I consider myself one of the more intelligent in this room, yes. But I don't really have much competition."

He sneered. Apparently not able to come up with something to say, he switched to violence.

Thanks to George's lessons, Alanna broke his nose and blacked one eye.

She had her arm broken.

Alanna sat on her bed that night, right arm in a cast and bruises slowly creeping across her body. Sun Tzu's _the art of war_ lay open in her left hand, her back and head resting against the wall.

Her eyes were only partially open, the buzzing in her head trying to drag her into a deep sleep. The pain killers the people at the hospital had given her had left her feeling stoned, and not in a good way.

When she heard knocking on the door, she groaned. She had known Jon and the others would miss her at the after school study sessions. And she was supposed to be at George's now. Normally she jogged there, but she was too tired…

"Alanna?" The muffled male voice called. There was more knocking.

"It's open." She said, her voice only just reaching their ears. If the knocking hadn't been so annoying she would've just saved her energy and let them worry at the door, but she wasn't feeling patient.

The knob turned, and someone entered slowly. "Down here," she told them, letting her eyes fall closed, gathering her strength so she could act well, get her visitor out of here as soon as possible, and then go to sleep. If all went according to plan.

Jon looked into the door. "Why weren't you…" He stopped speaking, and Alanna opened one eye. Aware she looked like a mess, not having brushed her hair after the tussle, not having the strength to shower, she was glad the nurses had at least wiped the blood from her knuckles.

"I'm tired." She smiled reassuringly. "Didn't feel like studying."

Jon walked over to her, took the book out of her lap and slotting the book mark into the page, sat it down without seeing it. "You look like you've just been in a fight." His voice held mild accusation, but mainly worry.

"Really?" Alanna asked, eyes widening.

"Who did you fight with?" He asked, command in his voice.

"No one," she told him, feeling a vague sense of deja vu.

He took her good hand, looked at the bandaged knuckles, then looked at her face. "Do you want me to get you something to eat, or anything?" She could see him fighting the urge to shake her for information, and appreciated it. The last thing she felt like doing was being shaken.

"I was just thinking about climbing into bed." Her eyes felt like lead. "But thanks anyway."

"Alright." Jon still held her hand. "Do you want a lift to school tomorrow?" he asked.

She scowled weakly at him. "Does everybody but me have their license?"

Jon shrugged. "Probably. Are you coming tomorrow?"

She yawned, and shook her head. "Not for a few days," she told him, eyes falling closed slowly.

"I'll drop in and see you before school," he replied. She nodded, the buzzing in her head almost overpowering his words. Watching her for a moment more, Jon sighed. Lifting her a little so she lay flat, the broken arm across her chest, he pulled up an extra blanket. She didn't stir. "Ralon, you'll pay," he said quietly, before brushing a hand carefully over Alanna's hair, smoothing it.

Alanna woke as the sun rose, but didn't rise from bed. Still fully dressed, she lay watching color bleed into the room with dawn, then slowly fade to a soft golden glow that would become harsh before the day was through.

Content for once to just lie in bed and do nothing, she idly wondered if her uncle had come home last night. Maybe he got alcohol poisoning…

Her thoughts wandered, until she got sick of thinking, and climbed out of bed carefully. The fact she had broken her right wrist at the start of the Christmas holidays meant she knew how to operate with one hand. By 8 o'clock, she was showered, dressed, and making herself porridge with some difficulty. When she heard a knock on the door, she swore quietly, glaring down at the oats, and went to see who was there.

"You look much better." Jon told her, his eyes scanning her critically, picking up the bruises that had been hidden the night before.

"I feel more human," she told him, honestly. "Had breakfast?"

He nodded, but followed her in, shutting the door. "So who did you encounter yesterday?" he asked, noticing the way she managed quite well with only one arm.

"Oh, a few people," she shrugged. "The classes are pretty big."

He scowled. "Just admit it was Ralon, and we can stop going around in circles."

"Did you know walking in circles is a sign of insanity?" Alanna asked him, putting her oats in the microwave.

Jon sighed, rubbed his face. "You're so stubborn."

"I'll take it as a compliment." She smiled at him, but the shadows under her violet eyes told a different story.

"Where are your parents?" Jon asked suddenly, looking around. "Or guardian? You're only 16…" He frowned.

"I live with my uncle," Alanna told him, turning away and taking the honey out of the cupboard. "He's probably at work." It sounded pretty weak to Alanna, but she didn't want to talk just then, so she left it at that.

"Alright." Jon said, voice not giving away his thoughts. "I'll come by after school with a mountain of work for you."

Knowing she'd be bored out of her brains by then, Alanna shot him a grin. "Thanks. It'll give me something to do."

"No problem." He returned her grin. "As long as you help me with it."

She laughed. "Typical guy. Always has an ulterior motive."

Jon looked injured. "Typical?" He asked. With a disdainful sniff, he turned, and strolled out of the house, calling over his shoulder, "be good."

Alanna, rolling her eyes, watched her porridge circle around in the microwave again.

All she had done all day was sleep and eat. At 3 pm, she scrambled onto the computer, and began carefully typing up an assignment that was due on Friday. At half past, she got up to stretch her legs, and walked over to her dresser.

In a small, polished mahogany box, she kept her pieces of jewelry. She opened it now, and took out a silver locket in the shape of an oval with a Japanese character engraved on both sides. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of attempting to put it on, but then thought better, letting it fall back into its resting place, until she had another fruitless urge to dig up the past.

Scrunching up her face, she went out into the kitchen, stared blankly out the window into the empty yard for a moment, before turning with a sigh to make herself a coffee. Rather than sit inside and dwell, she carried it out the front, stretching out on the lawn in the sun, safely hidden from the world by the tall fence.

The coffee was still steaming beside her hip when a car pulled into the driveway. Curious, Alanna watched in silence for her visitor to appear though one slitted eye.

George, looking cool as a cucumber, came strolling down the path, hands in pockets and brown hair wind tousled. Whether it was unconscious or on purpose, he paused the moment a light breeze blew, ruffling his hair and pressing the uniform he still wore against his body. His eyes met hers, and he ruined the whole effect by grinning boyishly.

"You look more comfortable than Ralon," he said, coming forward. "You cracked one of his ribs as well as fixing his nose and making his eye a nice shade of purple."

Alanna shrugged. Hearing that Ralon was uncomfortable didn't make her feel better. "You're such a poser, George," she said instead. He was walking with purposeful steps towards her.

"And you, fire-hair, are worse." Alanna lay in the dappled light, her hair tumbling loose over her shoulders, a v necked shirt and a pair of cargo shorts not hiding her well muscled body…or the bruises staining her skin.

She shrugged. "What brings you here?" she asked him.

"Just wanted to see how my favorite student held up." He sat next to her, picked up the coffee, nursing it.

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm your only student, of course I'm your favorite, and I'm holding up fine."

"You handle it well." He nodded at her plaster-covered arm. "Who helped you with the sling?"

Alanna ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. "It isn't that hard." She told him. "And its not the first time I've had a break. It isn't even bad…I'll be fine in two weeks."

"Yes, you said something about being in a car crash." He nodded at her arm. "Same arm too."

Alanna was surprised he had remembered it, and more surprised she had mentioned it to him so casually in the past. Shrugging, she climbed to her feet. "No classes for a few weeks,"she told him, offering her hand to help him up. He grinned, but didn't take it. "Nonsense. When you feel up to it, come around. You can't spar, obviously, but you can still practice the basics."

She nodded. Maybe she would. "Meanwhile, are you going to invite me in?" He asked, standing and carrying in her coffee.

"I was about to," she told him, smiling. "Would you like to come in?"

"Thanks." George opened the door for her, following her through to the kitchen. He took the glass of water she pushed at him, then followed her to her room.

The computer was still humming gently on her desk. "Homework?" he asked her.

"Sure." She shrugged. "I'm not one of those people who can do nothing for hours on end."

He shrugged too. "Story behind the fans there?" Alanna glanced at the hand painted fans on her wall. "The dragon was the symbol for nobility, tiger for pride, and the snake…"

"Sin." George finished, with a grin. "I know."

Alanna got flustered, and sat on the edge of the bed. Her room was pretty boring, with cream walls and teal green skirting boards, a paler green for the curtains which were constantly open. The covers on her bed had been sown by her mother, then painted with special silver paint, so the silver Japanese characters matched her fans.

George's ears almost perked, and a moment later Alanna heard another car coming into the drive.

When the front door slammed closed it was followed by explicit swearing. Alanna couldn't rise fast enough to shut her door. Face to face with a hung over and semi drunk uncle, she saw him look at her arm. Dim surprise registered in his drink-slackened features. "What'd you do girl?" His words slurred together so badly it took Alanna a moment to work it out in her mind.

"I hurt myself at school," she told him stiffly.

"Clumsy wench. Probably giving some sod a handjob—" His slurred words became unclear after there. He stopped speaking when George shifted, coming into view.

He looked up, squinting. He wasn't a short man, but half slumped as he was, George stood easily over him. "Regular little hussy ain't ya?" it was the clearest thing he had said since she had seen him. With that he turned and staggered off to his room. The reek of cheap port took longer to disperse.

Alanna shut her door, bright red and shaking with anger.

"Not your favorite person, then?" George hadn't moved, standing close enough for Alanna to feel his body heat.

She stepped past him without answering. "How long have you been in a cast?" George asked her.

"Since five yesterday." Alanna couldn't see a polite way to get him out of her room.

"And he only just noticed." George shook his head in amazement. Alanna couldn't see it with her back turned.

"Sorry about that." Alanna rubbed a thin scar on her shoulder, a sure sign she was jittery. George, who hadn't seen her like this, gave her a bright smile. "No problems." Still embarrassed, and angry, Alanna continued to rub at the scar. "Wanna tell me about it?" George asked.

"No." Alanna said sharply. "Nothing to tell." She amended, instantly.

"If you were any redder then you'd have a face to match your hair." George ruffled the hair in question, but didn't try to hide his concern. "I'll be going, to leave you to settle down, but if you want to chat, I'm right down the road." Alanna nodded, and walked him to the front drive.

"Al," someone called.

Alanna turned from watching George get into his car and looked towards the call. Her brother used to call her Al, when they had been close. She didn't know if he still would call her that. He hadn't returned her calls since she'd moved down to Victoria.

Alex was waving, the whole group striding towards her and George. Paling at the thought of them all meeting her uncle, Alanna sent George a pleading look.

He shut the door to the van, and walked to stand next to her just as the group of boys surrounded her.

"She needs her rest." George told them over the noise. "Look at her." Alanna stood, her skin now unusually pale, making the dark under her eyes more obvious, giving her a fragile look. She sent George a scathing glance that only proved she wasn't at death's door. It didn't matter how sick she was, the boys knew by now, she'd always have an attitude.

"I'm fine," she told them. "In fact, I was about to come down and see you."

"We thought we'd visit you." Jon glanced at the small red head, then George, knowing something wasn't right. George caught his glance, and with a tiny inclination of the head, showed he wanted to speak with him.

Jon, excusing himself from the group, walked a few meters away with George. "Met her uncle?" George asked hesitantly.

"No." Jon, away from Alanna, didn't sound friendly.

George's gaze sharpened. "Unless you want to embarrass Alanna further, I'd recommend you keep it that way. He's home now."

Jon looked at Alanna. She was standing straight as a board, hand curled into a fist in her pocket. Though he didn't like to admit George was right, he could see the truth plainly. "And you?" Jon asked. "Are you going?"

"Just dropped in to check on her." George told him. Sensing his presence was doing more harm than good, George shrugged. "I'll just be saying goodbye…_if_ your goin' to leave her in peace."

Jon nodded. He didn't want to get Alanna's back up any more than George did. The Rogue strolled over to Alanna, grinned, said something, ruffled her hair and left. Jon followed, frowning a little. How to keep the guys out of Alanna's hair? Gary had been distracted all day, Raoul had once again pounded Ralon, with Alex's help. Jon had been thinking.

They all wanted to see her, she was one of the guys now, just a littler, gentler guy. "Hey, Alanna, wanna come back to mine? I daresay you could use a change of scene."

Alanna looked like she was about to refuse. She was barefoot, her hair was flying loose, and dressed for midday heat, not the cool of the evenings.

Then she remembered what awaited her inside. "Sounds wonderful," she told him, wondering what George had said. Nothing about the insults, the poorly disguised suggestions. She was sure if Jon knew he'd be in there doing something about it. What, she wasn't exactly sure. What _could_ be done? She had no family, except a twin who refused to speak to her, and Coram, who was busy running Trebond Estates, and would never be given custody of a sixteen year old girl. Maybe there was somewhere else she could stay.

The thought of living with Jon made her shiver with nerves. He was the only one who never forgot she was a girl, though he treated her like an equal, especially in fencing. The others were all nice, safe platonic friends…

He looked at her bare feet. "Go grab some shoes, we'll wait here for you." Alanna nodded, and walked quickly inside again.

"Not me." Alex said happily. "I'm far too hungry. I'm going to go back and search for food."

Raoul agreed, following Alex's slim form.

"What'd the Rogue say?" Gary asked.

"Told me Alanna's going nuts after one day at home alone." Jon grinned at his old friend, feeling a pang at the thought of lying to him.

Gary returned his grin. "Sounds like her alright."

Alanna came out of the house wearing a pair of slides, and a jacket in her useful hand.

"Where'd sneaky and stompy go?" Alanna asked, as she joined Jon and Gary.

"Let me guess," Gary said dryly. "Sneaky is Alex, and poor old Raoul is stompy."

"He stomps." Alanna shrugged.

"He's also just as sneaky as Alex." Gary told her.

"Yeah, sure. Like anyone as big as he could sneak anywhere."

Gary laughed, met Jon's eyes over Alanna's head. "That'll get back." They said together.

"What…?" Alanna looked from one to the other, confused.

"Well, we'll have to ask Raoul how you know he's so _big_…" Gary said, eyes dancing.

"Oh, please!" Alanna threw her good hand into the air. "How do you think?" Jon choked on his laughter. "You know what they say about big feet." She looked at Jon slyly.

"What?" His eyes narrowed.

"Big shoes." Alanna shrugged. "And socks."

"Wasn't so long ago you didn't know algebra from trigonometry little lady, so you shut up." Jon told her, when Alanna grinned at their surprised faces.

"I'm not going to lower myself enough to even comment," Alanna told him.

"You look more than low enough from here." Gary said, peering down at her.

"Yep. Just the right height to kick you in the nuts." Alanna told him cheerfully.

"Not nice." Gary said, making a face at the thought. Alanna kicked _hard_.

Jon laughed. "You wouldn't," he said.

"Oh?" Alanna gave him an arch look, managed to look down her nose at him in spite of the fact her was more than a head taller than she.

"Nope." They arrived, and Jon let them in. They found Raoul and Alex eating a packet of chips and watching mindless television.

"Oi." Gary frowned at them, serious. "How's about we at least _start_ the homework?"

Alanna looked at the sky a good two hours later. Outside, darkness was falling like a comfortable blanket over the landscape. "See ya tomorrow, Al." Alex called over his shoulder, arms full of books.

"Bye." Alanna watched him go. She'd volunteered to stay behind and help Jon clean up. Someone had started a paper ball fight, and now the room was full of screwed up balls of paper. She was reasonably sure that one of her assignment sheets had fallen prey to the war and was scrunched up somewhere, but damned if she was going to check through them all. She'd just ask Gary to lend her his sheet next time.

"How's the arm?" Jon asked, dropping paper into the bag she held.

"Arm-ish." Alanna told him. The pain killers she had taken earlier were making her a little sleepy.

"Is this a good thing?" He asked.

"Oh, sure." Alanna gave the non-committal answer absently.

"When are you back at school then?" Jon asked her. "Things aren't half as interesting without you."

"Not for a few days." Not until she was off the drugs that made her so drowsy and onto over-the-counter pain killers.

"Want to hang back for a bit?" Jon asked her, taking the bag off her once there was no paper left on the floor.

"Why?" Alanna asked, leaning against the back of a chair. She wasn't suspicious, Jon was just her mate, nothing more. And if that sometimes bothered her, that was her lookout, wasn't it?

"Partially because you're about to fall asleep or pass out, and I don't want to have to carry you back, but also because I wanted to ask you something."Alanna nodded and shook her head trying to clear it.

"C'mon." He herded her towards his the kitchen, where he pushed her into a stool behind the bench. "Here." He poured her a glass of iced coffee. "It'll wake you up."

Alanna hesitated, not sure why he was giving it to her. In the end she accepted it with a shrug and hesitant thanks.

"No worries." He watched her wake up slowly.

"You wanted to ask something?" She said.

"About your uncle." Jon said carefully.

Alanna's eyes flashed. "I'll have his guts for garters."

"You uncle?" Jon frowned.

"No, George." She pressed her lips into a thin line. "Tattletale."

Jon raised his eyebrows. "All he did was to ask if I'd met your uncle, and recommend I leave you in peace. Was there something else?"

Alanna shut her eyes. "Nothing." She told him. "What is it with you and George? I feel like you two are - I don't know, rivals." She turned away from him. Why that thought should be disturbing was beyond her.

"Alanna…" Jon frowned. "How long have I known you?"

She shrugged. "Two months?" She wiped sweat off the outside of the glass idly with her thumb, uncomfortable and trying desperately to hide ti.

"Feels like longer." He lent on the wall right next to her. She refused to feel awkward.

"I should get going." She told him, looking up and meeting his eyes.

"Sure." Jon said, off balance. "I'll walk you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Its my arm, not my leg." She told him. Amusement glimmered in her eyes now.

"Still, you weren't long ago about to fall asleep on your feet." He reminded her.

"You make a good point." Alanna conceded. She knew when she had no argument. "But it isn't far." Jon watched finish off the drink and put the glass neatly beside the sink. "C'mon, if you want to go for a short, pointless walk, be my guest."

**AN**: the reason I haven't updated in so long is because I lost my USB stick where I'd saved everything to - ths story, the original, and three major assignments that were due last week. Apologies if I've kept anyone waiting.


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